


Nothing Less Than Everything

by Cobrilee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ankle Cuffs, Begging, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage Horse, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Butt Plugs, Cat-o-nine-tails, Cock Cages, Come Plugging, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, First Kiss, Flogging, Galaxy Garrison, Gratuitous use of the words 'baby' and 'sir', Hair-pulling, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Public Blow Jobs, Public Nudity, Public Sex, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Sensation Play, Shibari, Shiro is Keith's TA to start, Spanking, Strap crops, Temperature Play, Top Keith (Voltron), Top Keith/Bottom Shiro, Voyeurism, Wax Play, Whipping, Wrist Cuffs, dom!Keith, pinwheels, sub!Shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 10:46:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: Keith has spent a lot of time fantasizing about his gorgeous TA, but he never imagined Shiro would be into the lifestyle Keith has embraced. That's the thing about judging someone before you know them, though-they can surprise you in a number of ways. Keith finds out Shiro is an endless surprise, and it's the best thing that has ever happened to him.





	Nothing Less Than Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is my inexcusably late gift for [noir-wing](http://noir-wing.tumblr.com/) for the [Shaladin Secret Santa](https://shaladinsecretsanta.tumblr.com/) event. My apologies, my dear, and I hope that this is enough to make up for being so horribly late!
> 
> Many, many thanks go to my lovely beta readers, [Phaltu](http://phaltu.tumblr.com/) and [Rhysiana](https://rhysiana.tumblr.com/). This fic is so much tighter and cleaner because of them. Muah! I adore you both!

As far as Keith is concerned, there are only two things that make Garrison life worth it: the feeling of flying through space, simulated though it may be, and Takashi Shirogane’s ass in tight pants when he has his back to the class. Keith has lost himself many times to fantasies of spanking those gorgeously round cheeks, flogging them, and, during one memorable jerk session, using his single-tail whip on them. 

Not that he thinks Shiro is into the lifestyle; even if he was, he strikes Keith as more of a Dom. But Keith can dream. And dream he does. 

It goes on for several weeks, until Shiro catches him one day as he's leaving Electromagnetic Theory and asks him to stay behind. Keith has a brief flash of another fantasy, one where Shiro offers him a chance to “earn” some extra credit by getting on his knees, and he fidgets slightly while he waits for the rest of the class to file out. 

“Do you know why I asked you to stay back?” Shiro asks once the room is finally empty.

_ I know why I  _ hope _ you asked,  _ he thinks to himself, but he doesn't say it. Instead, he watches Shiro steadily and says a simple, quiet, “No.”

Shiro frowns, and something about the expression hurts Keith a little. “You're extremely talented, Keith, and just as smart. But you're not working up to your potential. Your grades are falling even though I suspect you know the material better than anyone else in the class. Why do you think that is?”

Keith shrugs, looking away. The silence feels awkward, and Keith waits for Shiro to become uncomfortable enough to break it. He doesn't. He just sits and waits, staring at Keith expectantly. 

Finally, exasperated, Keith juts his chin out and mumbles, “I hate studying. I hate writing papers, and doing my homework.”

Shiro snorts, and the unexpected reaction has Keith shifting back to look at him curiously. “Do you think anyone actually likes doing any of that?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “But we do anyway, because we have to.”

“It's boring,” Keith points out needlessly. “There are so many other things I could be doing with my time. Useful things, like flying.”

“You won't be doing any flying at all if you don't get your grades up,” Shiro informs him, and Keith scowls, because he  _ knows _ , okay? He just can't seem to make himself pull out his books when the stars and the sky keep calling to him, louder and more insistent, and he finds himself on the roof more nights than not. 

He looks down, hating the disappointed expression Shiro sports, and mutters, “I'll try harder.”

“You absolutely will,” Shiro says with utter confidence, and Keith lifts his head just enough to eye Shiro skeptically. “Because I'm going to tutor you and show you how to study.”

“Aren't there rules about that?” Keith asks, doubt coloring his tone. “You're my TA. Wouldn't you get accused of favoritism or something?”

Shiro shrugs. “I won't tutor you for this class, but you can take the lessons I teach you and apply them here.” He grins, and it's such a sparkling sight that Keith feels the need to shade his eyes. “Besides, it's true. You  _ are _ my favorite.”

Keith stares at him, stunned, as Shiro rises and collects his things. “Meet me at the library after dinner and we'll get started.”

“What if I already have plans?” he sasses, finally finding his voice. “It  _ is _ a Friday, after all.”

“Change them.” Shiro's response is easy, casual, but his eyes hold a challenge. 

Keith suppresses a shiver as Shiro smiles and waves, leaving the classroom. He's normally a Dom, but he thinks he could be willing to switch for Shiro. 

He would be willing to do a lot for Shiro. 

\-----

The first session goes well, to Keith’s surprise. He’d thought that he would spend the whole time covertly staring at Shiro, but turns out it’s harder to do when Shiro’s facing him and he doesn’t just get to fantasize about that ass.

“Your papers show a great deal of intelligence and thought, but no structure,” Shiro explains to him after they’ve settled in, exchanged a few pleasantries (more on Shiro’s side, admittedly), and fortified themselves with a few swallows of coffee. Keith is slightly concerned; he wonders if the presence of coffee at 6:30 at night is a bad sign, but he leaves them unvoiced. “I’ve been convinced for a while that if you could organize your thoughts better, you’d nail the assignments.”

“What do you mean, ‘a while’?” Keith scoffs. “We’ve been in class all of two weeks. Wednesday’s paper was the first we had to turn in.”

Shiro snorts. “I was your TA last semester, Keith.”

“That’s impossible,” Keith objects immediately. “I  _ definitely  _ would have remembered you.”

Shiro reaches for his coffee and takes his time sipping at it, but Keith still detects a faint blush crawling up his neck.  _ Interesting _ , he thinks, making note of the reaction and wondering what else he can do to elicit it.

“I wasn’t in class,” he explains finally. “Iverson doesn’t like having a TA around when he’s teaching, so he just had me grade the papers he passed on.”

“He doesn’t like the idea of a pretty face distracting his students from his almighty word, you mean,” Keith counters with a roll of his eyes, and inwardly smiles when the flush climbs higher.  _ Bingo _ . “He also doesn’t want any of the students to have a sympathetic, friendly face to focus on.”

“Anyway,” Shiro says, clearing his throat, and Keith allows him to take back control of the conversation. “I read a lot of your papers last semester and you have a lot of promise. You just need focus. I have a saying I like to tell people; ‘patience yields focus’. I’ve noticed you in class and patience is obviously not one of your strengths.”

“You’ve noticed me in class?” Keith interrupts, surprised, and Shiro’s neck turns an even darker red. 

“You’re hard to miss,” he mutters. “You’re impatient, you’re not subtle when you don’t like the direction of the conversation, and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you argue with the simulator equipment.”

Keith scowls. “The readouts weren’t accurate. I’ve never flown that slow in my life.”

“I’m sure you don’t do anything slow,” Shiro agrees, apparently without thinking about what he’s said because his eyes widen and he coughs. “Let’s get back to your paper. I want to go over a few sections and give you some tips on how to improve the construction of your argument.”

They’re there for four hours and it’s the only time in his life Keith has been glad to spend that much time in the library.

\-----

Their study sessions become regular, and the more time they spend together, the more Keith starts to see Shiro as a genuine friend instead of just fantasy material. It doesn’t mean that he stops daydreaming about Shiro, but it actually becomes less frequent as they grow closer. 

He can’t remember the last time he had a genuine friend, and while it makes him uneasy sometimes to realize how vulnerable he’s allowed himself to become with Shiro, there’s a part of him that craves it and is grateful that Shiro took an interest in him. He even manages not to torture Shiro (too often, anyway) with blatant teasing and flirting. He’s too afraid that if he pushes Shiro too far, the whole thing will fall apart and he’ll lose the best friend he’s ever had.

“I heard you blew away the simulation today,” Shiro says as he slides into the seat across from Keith in the cafeteria. Keith surreptitiously flickers his gaze around the crowded room, just waiting for someone to say something shitty about how he’s the TA’s pet, but the arrangement has become so commonplace in the last month that nobody even bats an eye in their direction. It doesn’t stop Keith from feeling self-conscious about it.

He takes a swig of his soda before answering. “Iverson claimed there was a malfunction of some kind, but I reminded him that he had a technician give the simulator a thorough re-work last month when it kept glitching on my times.” Keith grins, swiping at a lock of hair that’s flopped over his forehead. It’s getting long again; he should cut it, but he doesn’t feel like it. “He was pissed that he had to accept the scores as legitimate.”

Shiro sighs, pushing his little paper tub of mozzarella sticks across the table to Keith, who snags one and chomps into it. “You know if you stopped antagonizing Iverson all the time, he’d probably like you more than he does me. You’re on track to be even more of a golden boy.”

“Remind me to sabotage something,” Keith remarks dryly after swallowing his mouthful of cheese. “God forbid they start pressuring me to be as perfect as you.”

“You’re determined to ruin any kind of future you have, aren’t you?” Shiro says, frowning, and Keith feels an uncomfortable pinch of guilt. “Why do you hate the idea of being successful and respected and looked up to?”

“I’ve spent my entire life being a disappointment,” he mutters, fully aware that Shiro is the only person on- or off-planet who he would ever be so honest with. “I’m comfortable being the problem child. It means the only person I ever have to please is myself.”

Shiro’s frown remains in place and Keith hates it; Shiro’s face is made for smiling, and he hates being the cause of any expression of disappointment or worry. Despite what he’s just said, Keith knows he’s no longer the only person he needs to please. The idea of disappointing or displeasing Shiro goes against who he is at his core, and the need to make it up to him is strong. 

“If I promise not to back talk Iverson for a week, would that make you happy?” he grumbles, and Shiro’s frown melts away into a smile and a wink.

“Two weeks.”

“Impossible.”

“One week, Iverson  _ and _ your other teachers.”

“One week, Iverson and Montgomery. Take it or leave it,” Keith counters.

Shiro beams. “Deal.”

Keith has a feeling he just got conned, but with the way Shiro is looking at him, he’d do it a hundred more times. 

“Did you get the paper back from Holt’s class?” Shiro asks, breaking into Keith’s introspective musings. Keith sighs, acting as put-upon as possible before grabbing the paper from his bag and sliding it across the table.

He tries not to be too pleased by the look of delight that breaks out over Shiro’s handsome face, but he can’t help the warmth that spreads through him when Shiro exclaims, “An A+! I knew you could do it, Keith!”

Shrugging, Keith pushes his own tray of fries across to Shiro, who nabs one and nips into it. “What can I say, I have a good teacher.”

“I didn’t have to teach you anything,” Shiro argues. “I just had to get you to see what you already had in you.”

“Oh my God,” Keith groans, ducking his head and drinking more of his soda. He’s not normally one to blush, but sometimes Shiro is just  _ too much _ . “Stop it.”

When he chances a glance up, he’s curious to see Shiro with his face tilted down, the familiar flush spreading across his skin. He thinks back over the last few moments and has to bite back a smug smirk when he recalls his groaning “Oh my God” and realizes exactly what caused Shiro’s pink skin.

Fortunately the conversation redirects away from Keith’s academics and into their plans for the weekend, but Keith can’t quite let go of the knowledge of what his groans do to Shiro.

It gives him ideas.

\-----

They’ve been friends for two months when Keith makes the first mention of his extracurricular activities. “Your last two midterms are tomorrow, right?” Shiro asks him as Keith lets himself into Shiro’s room after dinner.

“Yep,” Keith answers, slinging his bag onto the floor beside the desk. Plopping down onto the seat, he rummages around until he finds his Statistical Physics book. “And of course Montgomery is determined to see every one of us fail.”

“She just wants to make sure she’s not passing cadets who don’t have a clue what they’re doing,” Shiro sighs, rolling his eyes. It’s a familiar argument, and if Keith didn’t adore Shiro so much he wouldn’t subject himself to Shiro’s unwavering loyalty to the instructors. “I was thinking we could go out and celebrate,” Shiro offers, and if Keith didn’t know him so well by now he’d have completely missed the hint of nerves in Shiro’s voice. “We could go to McKinnick’s.”

“I’m only twenty,” Keith reminds him. “I can’t get in.”

Shiro colors. “I could get you in. They like me.”

Keith snorts out a laugh. “Who  _ doesn’t _ like you?” he counters. “But I have plans,” he continues, regretfully. The club he goes to, Scarlet Ranch, has an event on the first Friday of every month and he never misses. He’s tempted to, for Shiro, but he figures he can’t start rolling over and being available every single time Shiro wants to do something.

“Oh?” Shiro asks, and Keith narrows his eyes at the faux-casual tone. “What are you up to? Anything fun and exciting?”

Keith worries at his lip. “Some would say it is. Others would not.”

Shiro raises a brow at him. “Sounds intriguing.”

“I’m going to Scarlet Ranch,” he admits, haltingly. “I never miss the first Friday of the month.”

Shiro’s brows furrow. “Scarlet Ranch? I feel like I know that name.”

Clearing his throat, Keith lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “It’s a scene club,” he explains, purposely making it vague. “I’ve been into it for years.”

“Scene club?” Shiro echoes, and Keith sighs.

“BDSM.”

“Oh.” Shiro blinks, but he doesn’t appear scandalized or shocked; rather, he looks thoughtful. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

Keith scoffs. “It’s not something I like to introduce immediately.”  _ Or ever _ , he admits to himself. He’s never been close enough to anyone to tell them about that part of himself. “The only person who’s ever known is the one who got me into it.”

Shiro nods, and Keith decides it’s time to redirect. “So are you going to tell me anything about Iverson’s final?”

Pursing his lips, Shiro shakes his head. “You know I’m not going to compromise my integrity for our friendship.”

“Please?” Keith widens his eyes and gives Shiro a solemn, hopeful stare. 

“It’s multiple choice and short essay,” Shiro informs him grudgingly. “Now that’s  _ it. _ ”

“You’re the best,” Keith consoles him, patting his arm where he sits on the bed. He doesn’t miss Shiro’s shy smile before he focuses his attention on his book, biting back his own answering grin. 

\-----

The second time it comes up, it’s Shiro who initiates.

“I’ve been doing some research,” he announces one night when he slips into the seat across from Keith.

Keith doesn’t bother to glance up. “Oh yeah?” 

“On Scarlet Ranch.” He looks up at that, his mouth falling open slightly. Shiro’s eyes fall to his lips. “I wanted to know more about what it is that you like.”

Keith wants to snap that he doesn’t need to be judged, but this is Shiro, so he holds back the instinctive response. “Technically that told you nothing,” he says mildly. “There are a lot of things that go on there that I don’t participate in.”

Shiro looks out of his element now, and Keith simultaneously feels bad and a little thrill that he’s the one to put Shiro, God’s Gift to the Garrison, in a position where he isn’t completely in control. “I meant the lifestyle in general,” he tries to clarify, and Keith nods. He’ll let Shiro have this one. “I just wanted to understand it.”

“Are you an expert now?” Keith teases, but he keeps his voice gentle.

“Of course not,” Shiro shoots back. “But I know something about it now. Y’know, if you want to talk about it.”

“Oh.” Keith sits back, surprised and pleased. “You did that just so I would feel comfortable discussing it with you?”

Shiro’s eyes go soft. “Yes.”

Keith can’t tear his eyes from Shiro’s gaze. “Okay. Then what would you like to know?”

“What would you want to share with me?”

Keith considers it for a moment, but he feels a little weird telling Shiro, earnest and vanilla Shiro, that he likes to tie people up and hurt them. “Would you rather see for yourself?” he asks instead, and Shiro’s eyes widen.

“I’d be allowed to go with you?”

“Not tomorrow,” Keith allows, “because the event is for members only. But the second Saturday of the month is for tasters.”

“Tasters?” Shiro repeats, and a slow grin spreads across Keith’s face. This is going to be fun, if it doesn’t traumatize Shiro in the process.

\-----

When the following week arrives, Keith is both anxious and excited. He’d never thought he’d get to share this part of his life with anyone else, but if there’s anyone he ever would, it would be Shiro. He just hopes that it doesn’t change how Shiro thinks of him. 

Knocking on Shiro’s door, Keith straightens up and brushes at his clothing. He’s wearing black leather pants and a red leather vest, along with his normal black fingerless gloves. It's not nearly as extreme as what a lot of the people at the club wear (or don’t wear), but it's more extreme than his own normal look because he likes to make an effort. 

When the door opens, Shiro smiles at him before recognition hits and he looks like he’s swallowed his tongue. “Keith?”

“Yeah.” Normally he’s in his element at the club and can’t be bothered with worrying what people think of him, but this is the first time he’s tried to bridge the gap between his two worlds, so he can’t help feeling a little nervous. “This is more club-appropriate.”

Shiro looks down at his own form-fitting black pants and gray vest over a long-sleeved black shirt. “I’m not dressed right, am I?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures Shiro as he steps into the hallway, locking the door behind him. Keith is still envious that Shiro has his own private room, with a lock. “You’re new, no one will expect you to be wearing leather and assless chaps.”

“Assless chaps?” Shiro looks a little stunned. 

“There probably won’t be any there tonight,” he comforts Shiro, patting his arm and swallowing a smirk.

When they get out to the hoverbike, Keith slides his black leather riding jacket out from the saddlebag and slips it on. Shiro gives him a dazed look, and Keith has a feeling that after tonight, something is going to have to give between them. Keith throws one leg over the seat and waits for Shiro to follow suit, then glances over his shoulder. “Hold on tight,” he says softly, and feels his heart rate ratchet up when Shiro obeys.

The ride is spent torn between making himself focus on what he’s doing, and wanting to luxuriate in the feeling of Shiro’s arms locked around his waist. His arms are long enough that he’s able to tuck his hands against Keith’s sides, the warmth of his palms heating Keith’s skin.

When they pull up to the club and park, Keith feels a sense of anticipation course through him. He’s ready to show Shiro this part of his life and no matter what Shiro thinks of it, at least he’ll finally know. 

“I didn’t think to ask before,” Shiro begins as he slides off the bike, and Keith faces him as he does the same. “Will you be having sex with anyone here?”

His mind immediately protests the thought of having sex with anyone other than Shiro, and the realization stuns him. He hasn’t had a partner in a while, since long before he and Shiro became friends, but the knowledge that he doesn’t even want one is new. “No,” he answers, heading for the unmarked front door. “BDSM play can be sexual, or it can lead to sex acts, but it can also be performed without sex. Anything I participate in tonight will be for play only.”

“Good,” Shiro says, so softly Keith almost misses it, and his chest feels fluttery.

He greets Kela, the hostess, with a nod. “This is my friend, Shiro,” he introduces. “It’s his first time. Can you set him up for orientation?”

Kela drags Shiro over to the desk and asks him a bunch of questions, setting him up in the system and letting him know that Enzo will be up shortly to give him a tour and explain the house rules. “Are you nervous?” he asks in a low voice when Shiro is done and Kela disappears into the dungeon, presumably to find Enzo. “I’ll be here with you the whole time.”

“A little,” Shiro confesses, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “But excited. I may have forgotten to mention it, but I enjoyed what I was reading. I did the research for you, but I liked it because it piqued my own interests.” 

“Really.” Keith’s mind takes off and he imagines playing with Shiro, tying him up and flogging him, and the fantasies that have faded in recent weeks flare back to life with a vengeance.

Shiro gives him a lopsided grin. “Really.”

Keith might be a little hard.

“You’re Shiro, I presume?” comes a voice, and Keith breaks eye contact with Shiro to flick his gaze over to Enzo. “Keith! Good to see you again. Is Shiro your guest?”

“Yeah, he’s developed an interest in the lifestyle and wanted to check out the dungeon,” Keith answers, and Enzo smiles. 

“Wonderful. We’re glad to have you, Shiro. If you’ll follow me, we’ll join the others who are here for orientation and get started.”

Keith falls into step behind Shiro, who’s following Enzo into the dungeon. Keith is used to it, the saturation of various shades of red and the splashes of black and gold, but Shiro looks overwhelmed as he steps into the decadence. “You’ll get used to it,” he whispers, and Enzo turns back.

“Keith’s right. It’s a bit much, but our clientele appreciates the aesthetic. Pretty soon you won’t even notice it.” He leads them to a group of guests, some with sponsors who are already members, some who look nervous and anxious and alone. 

Keith remembers being in their shoes. When he first got to the Garrison, he had no friends, knew no one who was into the lifestyle, and therefore had no sponsor. He’d found the Ranch by pure luck and essentially invited himself.

He only half-pays attention through the orientation and the tour that follows it, absorbed as he is in checking out the different stations and which of his regular play partners are around. As the group observes a couple doing a Shibari demo, Keith catches the eye of a petite redhead who he’s tied up on more than one occasion. 

“I’ll be back around in a little bit,” he murmurs, trying not to distract from Enzo’s explanation of what the group is watching. “I’m here with a friend of mine, I want to show him some of my favorite things. Are you interested in playing tonight?”

“Absolutely,” she replies. “Gina and Ellie will probably be another ten to fifteen anyway, so I’ll just stay here and finish watching them.” 

He nods in acknowledgement before melting back into the group. 

“Friend of yours?” Shiro whispers, nodding at the redhead, and Keith wonders if he’s imagining the hint of jealousy in Shiro’s voice.

Shaking his head, Keith whispers back, “Her name’s Lita. We scene together sometimes. She likes to be tied up, I like to do the tying.”

“Oh.” Shiro’s eyebrows raise. “I didn’t think you were straight.”

Keith huffs. “I’m not. Play doesn’t have to involve sex, remember? Which you’d have been reminded of if you were listening to Enzo,” he adds, gesturing at the man who is currently frowning at them.

Shiro falls silent with a sheepish half-smile at Enzo, and Keith uses the remaining few minutes of the tour to plan out their night. He wants to take it easy on Shiro instead of plunging him head first into Keith’s toy box of kinks, but his skin is itching to show Shiro everything that brings him pleasure so that they can share in it together.

Since Lita is already waiting for him, he leads Shiro back over to the Shibari area. Ellie is unwinding the rope from around Gina’s shoulders, and Keith feels his blood race at the red imprints on Gina’s skin. He's never been sure exactly why he gets enjoyment from the sight of those raised red welts, but he suspects it has something to do with putting his mark on someone. It's not permanent, as he himself never has been, but he's branding someone. It doesn't matter that it's temporary. 

“Hey, darlin’,” Lita drawls when Keith approaches her, Shiro in tow. She raises one eyebrow, her purple-tinted lips curling into a sly, cat-like smile. “This is the friend? I'm not sure which of you I'm more jealous of.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Stop flirting, Lita. Shiro’s just here to watch, not become your plaything.”

“Pity.” She begins stripping, and while Keith is used to it, he flicks a glance over at Shiro to see if he’s uncomfortable. Like the gentleman he is, Shiro is averting his gaze, and Keith swallows his smirk. “Ready when you are, Keith.”

They take a few moments to reiterate their normal rules, and he confirms Lita’s safeword hasn’t changed. He fast falls into the rhythm of creating the knots, wrapping Lita’s body in rope and crisscrossing the knots over her spine and stomach. Since he’d warned Shiro beforehand that it’s bad etiquette to interrupt a scene, Shiro stays quiet instead of asking him questions about what he’s doing. He’s only tangentially aware of Shiro’s presence, but he feels heat racing through him regardless. It can only be partially attributed to the feel of rope binding skin underneath his fingertips; the rest is from the feel of eyes on his back, his hands, his mouth.

When Lita is finally bound to his satisfaction, he strokes over the knots and presses them lightly, watching in avid fascination as the surrounding skin goes white from the pressure, then red as it bounces back. Lita gasps and Keith presses harder, pleased that she’s enjoying herself. Though he rarely has sex with his play partners, and never with his female partners, he also wants to make sure they get the pleasure they’re seeking from the interaction.

Even though scenes are supposed to be about the play partners, Keith is more than conscious of Shiro’s gaze on them, his attention rapt as he takes in every twist of Keith’s fingers, the way the ropes tighten and then give under Keith’s ministrations. He chances a glance at Shiro over his shoulder and has to suppress a shiver when they lock eyes, the fascination and outright  _ need _ shimmering in those fathomless depths. Keith can feel the breath catch in his throat when neither of them look away, and it’s only Lita’s whimpers which manage to break the spell. Dazed, Keith finally shakes his head and looks back at the bound redhead, scolding himself for losing focus.

Eventually he starts to untie the ropes, watching with regret as the knots unravel and fall away from her body. The divots from the larger knots remain, the redness in her skin is beautiful, and he feels a high sense of satisfaction. When they’re completely loosened, he leans in and murmurs praise in her ear, stroking her arm softly as she comes down from subspace. They breathe together for a few minutes, lost in their own world, until Keith starts to feel more clear-headed.

“A pleasure, as always,” she whispers to him with a brief kiss of his cheek, and when she pulls back, she winks at Shiro. “You’re a lucky man.”

Shiro drops his eyes as Lita walks away. “So, what’s next?”

Keith considers his options, then spots a station on the other side of the dungeon. “How do you feel about wax play?”

\-----

In some ways, their adventure at the club changes nothing between them, and in others, it feels like everything has changed. Their day-to-day interactions are no different than normal, but Keith feels significantly closer to Shiro now. He's shared a part of his life that virtually no one has ever seen before, and instead of running away or expressing discomfort, Shiro wants to share it with him.

They're careful not to cross a line, considering Shiro is still his TA, but semester finals are getting closer and Keith is getting bolder. 

So, apparently, is Shiro. 

“I want to go again,” Shiro tells him one day, interrupting Keith as he researches his paper on Jupiter's moons. Privately Keith thinks it's a busywork assignment, but they tell him it might earn him a spot on a future mission, so he's decided it's worth trying a little harder than normal.

“More sparring?” Keith asks absently, adding a footnote and making a face as he does. He despises proper formatting. There are a billion rules and he never remembers more than three. “You know I'll kick your ass again.” 

Shiro scoffs at him. “Not likely, considering I had you pinned in under sixty seconds last time.” He had, but that might have been because Keith wasn't trying very hard. At all. “And no. I want to go back to Scarlet Ranch.”

He looks up at that. “It's been a few weeks since we went and you haven't said anything about going again. I didn't think you were interested in a repeat experience.”

Shiro shifts, seeming to weigh his thoughts, and Keith waits him out. Patience has never been, and never will be, his strong suit, but with Shiro it's effortless. “I was trying to decide if I really want to get deeper into it.”

“And?”

“And I've been thinking about watching you whip someone. I know you like it, and I want to see you do it.” Shiro looks nervous, like he's afraid that admitting it out loud will make Keith think differently of him. 

It does, but it's so much better. 

“There's another event for guests in two weeks,” he informs Shiro, his voice going husky. “We'll be there.”

\-----

It’s on the way to Scarlet Ranch that Shiro drops the bomb. 

“I want you to flog me tonight.”

Keith maintains control of the bike, but just barely. “This isn’t the kind of thing you just jump into, unprepared!” he yells over his shoulder, voice competing with the wind whipping around them, and he’s not entirely sure Shiro’s heard him. Shiro’s arms tighten around him just a fraction, but Keith isn’t going to let that sway him. Gritting his teeth, he punches the accelerator so they can get to the club sooner. They definitely need to talk about this.

As soon as they pull into a space, Keith cuts the engine and twists in his seat to glare at Shiro, who’s smiling innocently back at him. “Did you  _ want _ me to wreck the bike?” he grits out, and Shiro shrugs.

“I figured it would be better to let you know my intentions before we got here, so you’d have some time to consider it.”

“Consider it?” Keith sputters, narrowing his eyes. “I have absolutely considered it. But only after you and I have a very thorough conversation about our hard and soft limits, what we both want to try, and what my expectations would be for you. This isn’t something you step into with no discussion, no prep, no information between parties.”

Shiro leans in. “Come on, Keith. You have plenty of information. I know you like to whip people. I want to be flogged.” His eyes sparkle. “That’s all we need for tonight. The rest of the conversation can come later.”

Keith crosses his arms over his chest, making his gaze as steely as he’s capable of. “No.”

“You can use the softest one possible,” Shiro cajoles. “I just want to try it. I know the green, yellow, red safewords, and I’ll use them. I promise.”

He sometimes forgets that Shiro has put in a lot of time researching this. It’s different from being an active participant, but it’s not like Shiro has no idea what he’s doing. Safewords and limits would be two of the first things drilled into his head. 

As if he can sense Keith weakening, Shiro flashes him another brilliant smile. “I just want this one thing. Then I’ll go back to watching.”

Keith cracks. “Fine. One time. You use the safe words, and I’ll take it easy on you.”

Shiro smirks. “Don’t you dare.”

Grumbling, Keith grabs his gear from the saddlebags and follows behind as Shiro strides toward the club entrance.

“Keith! Shiro! So lovely to see you both again,” Kela greets them, going straight to the computer to sign Shiro in. “Are you considering a membership, Shiro?” she asks, showing off the dimple in her left cheek. 

“It depends on how tonight goes,” Shiro answers easily, and Keith eyes him. He’s still slightly grumpy that he’d been thwarted so easily, but it’s starting to be overtaken by his excitement that he’s going to be doing a scene with Shiro, of all people. That Shiro wants to be flogged, and Keith is the one who gets to do it.

The pants he picked out for tonight are far too tight for as hard as he’s going to get.

Kela processes Shiro quickly, since he’s already in the system, and since Shiro has gone through orientation already, they’re allowed to enter the club by themselves. “Do you want to wander and watch for a little bit first?” Keith asks, gesturing at the various scenes in play. “Or do you want to go straight for it?”

Shiro considers, his attention caught by something--Keith looks around to see if he can figure out by what, but there are a couple of potential scenes, so he’s not sure--then nods. “I want to see some of the other things I’m interested in. For future reference.”

Swallowing, Keith lets Shiro take the lead. He’s not surprised when Shiro stops to watch a couple experimenting with temperature play. The last time they were here, Shiro had been fascinated by the woman dribbling melted wax over her girlfriend’s breasts and navel, by the way she whimpered and writhed as the hot liquid dripped onto her nipples and subsequently hardened. Keith had pretended not to see how aroused Shiro had been. After all, they were all there to be aroused in some way, but they were discreet enough to not mention it unless the person in question wanted it addressed. Keith still doesn’t know if Shiro wants it addressed.

“I want to do that, eventually,” he murmurs to Keith, careful not to interrupt the flow of the scene, and Keith nods, not letting himself get too excited about all of Shiro’s interests. He’s pleased to be able to introduce Shiro to something he might never have considered before, but apparently has a strong inclination toward, but he’s not going to allow himself to fall into the trap of believing it means anything more.

They wander over to watch a man strapped to a Saint Andrew’s cross. His partner has a crop in her hand, sky-high black heels, black fishnets, black bustier, the whole nine. One of the things Keith finds interesting about clubs is that they run the gamut from people who look like they wandered in off the street, to those who look like they were pulled directly out of some vanilla’s BDSM roleplay fantasy, and no one bats an eye no matter which end of the spectrum they fall on. It’s comforting. Keith always feels like he belongs no matter how much he doesn’t look like anyone else.

Shiro’s hand finds Keith’s shoulder and squeezes it briefly when the woman’s crop lashes out and catches the man on the upper thigh, close to his cock. Keith leans into it just a little, but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge the gesture. They watch as the crop snaps repeatedly, leaving bright red marks all over his thighs. The tiny briefs he wears are white, and as he hardens and the pre-come dribbles, they turn transparent and the outline of his erection is even more clearly visible. Keith suspects the man will come in them within the next few minutes, so he nudges at Shiro, who takes the hint and moves along. 

It’s not that Keith is a prude, far from it or he wouldn’t be here, but he’s never had an interest in watching other people orgasm. He’s not a voyeur, and he’s not much of an exhibitionist, either. He knows that people watch him when he does scenes, as they’re now watching others, but he doesn’t derive any particular sense of satisfaction from being watched.

“Are you still interested in participating tonight?” he asks lowly as they come to a stop beside an empty couch. Shiro’s half-paused, glancing around for his next destination, but Keith’s words draw his attention.

“Absolutely. Are you still okay with it?”

Keith sighs, shoving at his bangs as they flop over his forehead again. They really are too long, but he doesn’t want to cut them. “I’d be a lot more comfortable with it if we could revisit this later, when we have an opportunity to have a real conversation about it,” he admits, frowning a little. “I know you want to do this, but play shouldn’t be entered into lightly. I should have a very clear understanding of your hard and soft limits, and you should know the same about me.”

Shiro’s hand finds his shoulder again, and this time the squeeze is harder, longer. “Keith, I trust you. This is the one thing we know we’re in full agreement on, and I understand how to use the safe words. If I were asking to participate in everything tonight, I’d say your concern is warranted, but in this case, I think it’s okay to roll with it for once.”

Smirking, Keith nods at a free area of the play floor, and they make their way over to it. Shiro stands before him, controlled anticipation emanating from his entire body. “I never thought I’d see Golden Boy Takashi Shirogane advocating for ignoring the rules.”

“I’m not ignoring them. I’m slightly bending and then circumventing them,” Shiro counters, but his gray eyes are twinkling. Keith bites down on his lip to keep the smile from curving it upward. Instead, he unzips his bag and rummages through the contents. He knows exactly what he’s looking for, has known since the first moment Shiro asked to be flogged. 

He withdraws it from the bag and watches Shiro’s reaction out of the corner of his eye as he tests the balance in it. He doesn’t need to, of course, since he knows it like the back of his hand, but it’s always good to re-familiarize himself with a tool before using it. 

The red suede lashes swish and dance as he tilts the hilt back and forth. The interwoven black and red leather provides a comforting sensation beneath his palm, and he rubs his thumb lovingly over the well-worn edges. Shiro’s eyes have widened and subsequently narrowed, and he looks hungry. Keith can’t wait to be the one to feed this particular craving.

“How do you want to do this?” Keith asks, his voice hoarse. Shiro’s eyes close for a heartbeat and when they open, Keith can see determination shining in them.

Without answering, he reaches over his head to grab the back of his shirt, pulling it up and over. Keith’s seen his bare chest before, during and after their sparring sessions, but this is… entirely different. His heart thuds and he can feel blood coursing through him, throbbing in his ears and behind his eyes, and his breathing stutters. Ducking his head to hide his reaction, he misses when Shiro unbuttons and unzips his pants, sliding them down his heavily-muscled thighs along with his briefs. Keith glances over in time to catch Shiro straightening back up to his full height as he tosses his clothes to the side.

It is  _ not _ melodramatic to say his heart stops and his lungs cease to function.

Shiro watches him steadily, nerves flickering around his eyes and in the tic of his jaw, but he stands tall, chest out and shoulders back, and there’s no shame in his soft gray gaze. 

_ You’re beautiful _ , Keith thinks. “Take this,” he says abruptly, handing over the flogger, and blinks away the lust that’s hazed over his eyes. “I want you to feel it, and tell me what you think.”

“It’s soft, smooth,” Shiro comments as he runs his fingers through the wide suede strips. He smooths his fingertips over the same time-softened edges Keith had stroked mere minutes earlier, and Keith feels a rush of something unidentifiable. “Suede thuds, doesn’t it?”

Keith nods. “It creates more of a dull pressure, which is usually more tolerable for beginners,” he explains. “There’s a touch of a sting to it, enough to give you an idea of whether you’d like something with more sting.”

“Looking forward to it,” Shiro says lightly as he hands the flogger over, and Keith nods, swallowing. “How do you want me?”

_ In every way imaginable. _ “Place your palms on the wall,” he instructs instead. “Lean forward a little, brace yourself. If you get light-headed, it’ll help keep you from falling backward. If you slide, I can catch you before you hit the ground.”

“You really think that’s a possibility?” Shiro asks, amused.

“It’s always a possibility,” he says flatly. “You have to take this seriously, Shiro, or we’re done right now.”

“Okay, I promise,” he replies, and he’s not making light this time. His face has slipped into Serious TA Shiro mode, so Keith nods.

“This particular flogger isn’t meant to deliver extreme pain, but every person is different. You’ve never been flogged before, so we don’t know how you’ll react. You may find it unpleasant, you may find it euphoric. The sensation may overwhelm you to the point that you black out.” Keith runs the falls over his fingertips again, feeling a prickle of anticipation through his shoulder blades. “Are you ready for a test?”

Shiro nods. “Yes, please.”

“What are your safe words?”

“Green for keep going, yellow for slow down so we can talk about this, red for hard stop,” Shiro recites, and Keith breathes in. It’s now or never.

Stepping back, he angles his body so the falls will strike against Shiro’s ass when he brings his arm down. The ass which is right in front of him, bare, perfectly round, and more beautiful and arousing than his fantasies had ever anticipated. Keith wants nothing more than to see those gorgeous cheeks covered in red stripes. “I’m going to land one strike, and you’re going to give me a color,” Keith warns, and Shiro nods. Keith draws his arm back, breathes, and swings.

The strips land with a dull thwack, and Shiro’s body jerks. Keith’s eyes fly to his hands, watching as the fingers curl into claws and dig into the wall. “Color?”

“Green,” he rasps, and Keith smiles. 

He lands another blow, pauses for Shiro’s groan, then another. His cheeks are pinking up nicely, but they’re not red yet, and Keith needs more. “Color?” he asks, and at Shiro’s confirmation of green, he strikes again. And again. And again.

Keith is hard now, his breathing uneven, but it’s Shiro who’s moaning, squirming backward and presenting his ass more insistently. “Tell me how you feel,” Keith commands, sinking more comfortably into his Dom skin now that he knows Shiro is really into the scene.

“Fuck, Keith,” he pants, the name ending on an upward hint of a whine, and Keith’s cock twitches in his pants. “I feel so warm, but it’s not enough. I want to feel the fire. Hit me harder.”

Keith makes a mental note to explain to Shiro later that if he truly wants to be Keith’s sub, he’s going to have to be a little more respectful. Since they’re not officially in a Dom/sub relationship and no rules were discussed nor were expectations set, he’ll let it slide. For now.

“I’m going to give you five without stopping,” he tells Shiro. “I’ll let you rest for a minute, then give you ten more without stopping. Can you handle that?”

“God, yes,” Shiro grits out, wiggling his ass backward.

He wonders if maybe he’s going a little too hard, a little too fast, but Keith reminds himself that he’s seen what Shiro can take. Their sparring sessions are no-holds-barred, and Shiro can power through the pain. Now that he thinks about it, he realizes that Shiro has always thrived on it. He should have suspected long ago that Shiro harbored masochistic tendencies.

“Keith?” Shiro prompts, and Keith lashes out instantly, the suede strips slapping hard against Shiro’s naked backside. Without pausing, he goes straight into the next, landing three more blows before he drops his arm.

“Color?” 

“Green, damn it. It’s so fucking green you could see it from space,” Shiro says hoarsely, and Keith imagines that’s what he’ll sound like when he’s been choking on Keith’s cock. Because there’s no question in his mind that they’ll get there, eventually.

He reaches out and smooths his palm over the now-red flesh of Shiro’s ass, soothing the ache he knows Shiro must be experiencing by now, rubbing his fingertips across it before digging in lightly. “I’m going to start again.” Shiro nods, and Keith switches the flogger to his other hand before shifting his stance, preparing to strike from the opposite angle.

Ten blows takes twenty seconds, evenly spaced out, until Shiro’s face is pressed into the wall and he’s sobbing his pleasure. Keith’s dick is throbbing, constrained in his too-tight pants, and he desperately wants to come, but now isn’t the time. When the last strike hits, he tosses the flogger toward his bag and sinks to his knees.

“Did you get your fire?” he asks, lips skimming the light welts, both pale and vivid red. It’s a step he doesn’t have permission to take, but he wants to comfort Shiro as he comes down. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s Shiro’s ass he has his lips pressed to, it could be argued that what Keith is doing is no more sexual than brushing a kiss across a loved one’s forehead.

“Yes,” Shiro breathes, but it sounds watery, pinched, and Keith pulls back, frowning. 

“Turn around,” he instructs, and when Shiro does, Keith’s throat goes dry. Shiro’s erection is right in front of his face and it’s beautiful; thick, well-shaped, flushed red, and positively glistening from the pre-come which has apparently been dripping from the gleaming red slit this entire time. He wants to taste it, wants to take it into his mouth and swallow, wants to jack Shiro until he comes down Keith’s throat.

He pulls back instead, rising to his feet and lifting his chin to take in Shiro’s questioning expression.

“We can’t,” he chokes out, hating himself when Shiro’s anticipatory smile falls. “We didn’t pre-negotiate this, and I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in subspace.”

“Even if I want it?” Shiro asks softly, and Keith closes his eyes.

“Even if. I have to know that it’s not just the euphoria talking.”

Shiro nods, and Keith reaches for him, placing a hand on his shoulder the same way Shiro had done to him earlier. He pulls Shiro in and they rest against each other, foreheads touching as they breathe together, eyes closed, the whole world falling away as they take comfort in each other while they come down from their high.

When Keith feels steady again, he opens his eyes and waits for Shiro to follow suit. “How do you feel?” he murmurs, and Shiro flashes a warm grin at him. 

“Like I can’t wait to come back.”

Keith lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Should we sign you up for a membership on the way out?”

“That’s probably a good idea. I have a feeling I’ll be coming here a lot.” Shiro’s smile has shifted into something wicked. The words have a double meaning and Keith knows it, and he aches. 

As soon as he gets home he’s getting his hand around his dick, roommates be damned.

\-----

Their pending negotiations don’t get brought up again until after finals. Keith is determined to ace every single one of them in order to prove to Shiro that his work hasn’t gone to waste, and Shiro wisely doesn’t attempt to bring it up while Keith is stressed about his upcoming exams. It’s still solidly in the back of his mind, however, and Keith prints out a couple of kink negotiation lists so they’ll be ready when he is.

The moment he’s done with his last final, he walks out of the classroom and heads straight for Shiro’s room. He doesn’t even bother to knock; he’s been given “walk right in” rights, which he will never admit still gives him butterflies.

“How did your finals go?” Shiro asks as Keith shuts the door behind him, dropping his bag beside it. “Did Montgomery’s kill you?”

“She did her best,” Keith groans, flopping down on the bed and covering his eyes with his arm. “Three-page essay in 45 minutes. She’s evil.”

Shiro snorts. “You’re also done with her classes for an entire year. Enjoy it.”

“I have a way to celebrate,” he offers, gesturing at his bag. “Go get that for me and I’ll show you.”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro pushes back from his desk and crosses the small space to grab the bag and bring it back over. He drops it on Keith’s stomach, who lets out a pained grunt. “If you knew you needed something out of this, how come you left it across the room?”

“Poor planning skills,” he counters dryly. Fishing around in the bag, his fingers finally close on the folder he’s looking for. Keith pulls it out and flips it open, slides the two negotiation forms out of it, and hands one over to Shiro, who looks down at it for a moment in confusion before his face clears in recognition.

“We’re really doing this?”

Keith shrugs, keeping his face carefully neutral despite his now-racing heart. “You pushed for it at the dungeon and seemed pretty into it. If you want to keep doing it, we need to have this discussion and go over our limits with each other. Nothing else is going to happen until we do.”

Shiro smiles a little, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that I don’t want it to happen. I just didn’t think you were going to let it.”

“Trust me, I never expected you to be into this,” Keith tells him. “The fact that you are means it’s definitely going to happen, but I’m a responsible Dom, so we go into this with full disclosure and understanding of what we both want.”

“You’re the Dom, huh?” Shiro repeats off-handedly, skimming something on the sheet and marking his choice quickly. 

Grabbing the pen away, Keith nods. “I haven’t been a sub since my first partner,” he informs Shiro, tensing so noticeably that he feels uncomfortable. He doesn’t talk about Alex, ever, but he knows at some point he’s going to have to. Shiro’s already so deep under his skin that Keith won’t be able to get by without giving the backstory to his induction into the world of BDSM.

“Fine with me,” Shiro says, and it’s so agreeable that Keith wants to be suspicious, but it’s Shiro, so he’s not. “From the reading I’ve done, I’m more inclined to be a sub anyway.”

“Shiro, you like being flogged and you want me to drip hot candle wax all over you,” Keith snorts. “You’re definitely the sub.”

Shiro gives him another slow smile that twists Keith’s insides. “Among a few other things. Can we get to the list already? There are a few things I need to circle, star, and highlight as yeses.”

“You’re going to test me, aren’t you?” Keith mutters, but it’s said with undisguised affection. “You’re not going to be a good boy at all.”

Shiro’s eyes twinkle. “I’ll be so good it’ll make you cry.”

“Fuck, Shiro.”

He smiles, knife-sharp. “That’s the goal.”

\-----

Keith gets a text five days later.  _ My results are in. Come to my room.  _

He distinctly remembers telling Shiro that as a sub, respect and, y’know,  _ submission _ , are a given. Somehow he still doesn’t mind being bossed around. But just a little. Any more and Shiro will have to be punished.

Hope springs eternal that Shiro will continue to misbehave.

“You summoned me?” he remarks dryly as he lets himself into Shiro’s room, and Shiro responds by making a face and throwing an envelope at Keith’s. There’s not enough weight to help it continue on its trajectory, so it falls short and flutters to the floor. “You’re really proving you earned those top marks in physics.”

“Smartass. Just read it.”

Bending, Keith sweeps the letter off the floor and pulls the single sheet of paper from the envelope before skimming it. “You’re clean. We knew that.”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro settles himself on his bed and begins to strip off his shoes and socks. “You told me we had to wait for confirmation.”

Keith tucks the paper back into the envelope and crosses the room to toss it on his desk. “We’ve gotten your confirmation, but you haven’t gotten mine.”

Shiro stills, and the look on his face is edging close enough to dismay that Keith feels slightly guilty. “I trust you.”

“Shiro.” He sits down on the bed beside Shiro and lays a hand on his now-bare foot. “You know better. You can’t blindly trust in me. What if I had something I didn’t know about?”

“This whole lifestyle is built on trust,” Shiro responds stubbornly, and he’s not wrong.

“Maybe, but trust has to be earned.” Keith reaches into his back pocket and withdraws a matching envelope, handing it over. “Like this.”

Shiro pulls the paper out and when he realizes what it is, he glares at Keith. It’s ruined by the half-smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “You asshole.”

“Is that how you speak to your Dom?” Keith reprimands him, but he deserves it, so he’s not too upset. “And now we know we’re both clean. Don’t you feel better?”

Shiro looks like he’s going to argue, but then he nods. “You were right. It’s important to know for sure.”

“Don’t you trust me more now?” Keith coaches; Shiro makes another face at him, and Keith has to laugh. 

Finding out that Shiro had a desire to bareback had  _ done _ something to Keith, and he even still feels a low thrum of desire under his skin even though their conversation hasn’t gone anywhere sexual. Knowing that Shiro wants that, with him, makes Keith all the more committed to being everything Shiro could want in a Dom. Unfortunately for Shiro, it meant nixing any potential sexual activity until they had confirmation that it was safe to do the things he wanted to do.

Which, apparently, there were a lot of. Keith had been both floored and seriously aroused by all the things that Shiro had marked as  _ definitely want to try _ or  _ I’m interested in trying _ . There were many things he’d marked as hard no’s, but they aligned in many ways with Keith’s hard limits. It pleased him to see how compatible they were in their desires. Keith liked whips, Shiro wanted to be whipped. Keith liked tying people up, Shiro wanted to be restrained. Keith liked temperature play, and Shiro wanted to have hot wax dripped all over him. 

There were also things on the list that Keith had never done and had little interest in doing, but he was game to try because they were rated high on Shiro’s list of wants. For example, the exhibitionism. Shiro wanted to be fucked in public, which was something Keith had never done nor wanted to. As soon as he knew it was something Shiro wanted, however, it suddenly had a higher appeal than it ever had before.

In contrast, there were two things Keith had never been able to do that he wanted to, and while they were marked low on Shiro’s list, he’d readily agreed to try them as soon as he knew they were high on Keith’s. It gives Keith a thrill that Shiro is so willing, so eager, to make him happy. He knows he’ll have to be careful, and he’ll have to keep Shiro from discarding his own needs and desires in order to please Keith, but he’s confident that they’ll be able to weather those issues as they arise.

“Keith?”

Blinking, Keith pulls himself from his introspective thoughts to see Shiro sitting in front of him, his shirt half-unbuttoned, staring at him uncertainly. “Yeah?”

“Do you not want to do this now?”

It’s a considerate question, and Keith appreciates it. There’d been an unspoken understanding that as soon as they had their STD test results, they’d move forward with some of the things they wanted to do. The fact that Shiro is willing to put on the brakes despite how long they’ve already waited is heartening. 

It doesn’t surprise him, since for all that Shiro has been surprisingly forthright about wanting a sexual, Dom/sub relationship, he’s still Shiro. This is one area where Keith feels like the older one, the more mature and experienced one, and it’s been gratifying to see Shiro be a little petulant and grumpy about being denied and told to wait, but it’s also good to know that Shiro is still Shiro at the end of the day. 

“Oh, we’re doing this now.” He smiles, wider than he normally would, and he likes the look of surprise that flits across Shiro’s face before it’s replaced by something eager and hungry. Keith gestures to the bag he brought in with him and dropped by the door; it looks just like his book bag, so Shiro can be forgiven for not realizing what it is. “I came prepared.”

He watches as Shiro’s mouth opens, then he apparently thinks better of whatever he was going to say and nods. “Where do you want me, Sir?” he asks instead, and the submissive tone sends a jolt straight to Keith’s cock, nevermind the stark reminder of their role reversal. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s called Shiro “Sir” in class, while sparring, during simulations. It’s going to make it interesting the next time he’s called on to address his superior officer in public, because by then he’ll have firsthand knowledge of what it’s like to be Shiro’s commanding officer in private. 

“I want you naked,” Keith answers, letting his eyes and his voice darken. “I want you laid out in front of me, open and wanting.”

He was going to grab his bag and extract the things he needed for tonight, but when Shiro goes for his remaining buttons, Keith pauses and decides the bag can wait. He watches as Shiro deliberately slips each button from its hole, and when his glance flicks upward, he catches Shiro’s steady, unwavering gaze. Neither drop their eyes as Shiro finishes his task, lifting one broad shoulder and letting the fabric slip down his arm, exposing his muscled bicep. He shifts the other shoulder and the shirt drops again, slithering down his back, still trapped on his arms.

“Let me,” Keith murmurs, and he takes the few steps to close the distance between them, pushing at the fabric bunched at Shiro’s elbows. Shiro lifts his arms obediently and Keith tugs at the cuffs, yanking them down over Shiro’s hands. His fingers catch in the fabric from the inside and Keith has to tug harder, his eyes narrowing at Shiro’s innocent, placid smile. “You promised to be good for me.”

“I promise,” Shiro says solemnly, but there’s enough of a hint of laughter behind it that Keith stares at him, suspicious. 

“You realize that if you don’t behave, you won’t like the punishment I give you?” Keith counters, voice mild.

Shiro makes an appropriately apologetic face and says in a subdued tone, “I really do promise.”

Keith doubts his ability to be good, but he’s new and needs training, so he won’t punish Shiro just yet. “That’s your first and only warning,” he explains quietly; it’s both soft and stern, and Shiro nods. With one last tug, the sleeves slip free and Keith tosses the shirt on the floor. “Take off your pants while I get the candles.”

He turns to get the bag, and he can hear Shiro’s huff of displeasure. Considering he’s an exhibitionist, Keith supposes that  _ not _ watching while Shiro disrobes is a form of punishment after all. He waits a few beats, rummaging around in the bag until the sound of cloth moving behind him goes quiet.

Standing, Keith pivots with his white paraffin candle in one hand and a match in the other. Shiro is laid out on the bed, completely naked as Keith instructed. His pulse quickens, but he lets his eyes skim lazily over the body splayed out for him. “Good boy.” Shiro’s half-hard cock twitches a little, and Keith makes a mental note to use praise when Shiro cooperates. “I’m going to test the wax and then I’ll try it on you.”

“Can’t wait,” Shiro breathes, and Keith smirks down at him. 

He strikes a match and lights the candle, waiting patiently for it to heat up to the point that the paraffin begins melting. The liquid pools up gradually, gleaming under the flickering candlelight, and Keith glances at Shiro beyond the bright flame to find a look of anticipation mixed with something soft and happy, all directed at him. 

He tries not to think about it. He’s fulfilling a sexual need for Shiro, that’s all; he’s not deluding himself into thinking that Shiro wants more than that. His hand trembles and the liquid wax spills over the brim of the candle, dripping down onto his fingers and splashing heat against his skin, and he bites back a curse. 

“Can’t handle the heat?” Shiro teases gently, and Keith narrows his eyes.

“Be careful, or I’ll blow the flame out,” he warns, and Shiro bites his lip. It’s enticing, sexy, and Keith wants to bite it, too. Instead, he carefully leans over Shiro, holding the candle aloft and straight. “The wax will be hotter the closer I hold the candle to your skin,” he informs Shiro, tipping it just enough for a few drops to spill, landing on Shiro’s left nipple. “How does that feel?”

Shiro hisses out a breath. “It feels good.” He hesitates. “But it’s not enough.”

Keith moves the candle to the right nipple, drops it a couple inches, and tips again. Shiro whimpers, and Keith’s cock grows harder in his pants. “Now?”

“More,” he pants. “Hotter.”

Keith tilts the candle a little further, dragging it down Shiro’s abdomen and watching the thin line of liquid make waxy stripes over Shiro’s taut skin. Shiro is trembling, his dick thickening, and Keith watches as a drop of precome pearls at the slit, just barely visible as it peeks out of the foreskin. “How far down do you want me to go?”

“All the way,” Shiro grits out, and Keith frowns a little. He loves that Shiro is enthusiastic and clearly enjoying himself, but he worries that Shiro won’t respect his own boundaries, that he’ll push himself too far too fast in the pursuit of new pleasures. “Keith, I promise I can handle this.”

“Color,” he says anyway, and Shiro sighs, but obediently announces that he’s green, so Keith takes the candle lower. Luckily Shiro has very little body hair, so the wax isn’t in danger of clumping up in the fur of his lower belly. A blurt of liquid dribbles out of his cockhead into the waxy strips Keith has criss-crossed over his pelvic area. 

Shiro whines Keith’s name under his breath and Keith pulls back, much to Shiro’s displeasure. “What do you want, Shiro?”

“More,” he begs. “More heat. I want it on my cock.  _ Please _ , Sir.”

Groaning softly, Keith obliges. He lifts the candle a few inches, not sure that Shiro is really aware of how much the wax is going to burn such sensitive skin, but at the first splash against his shaft he bucks up, swearing and clutching at the sheets. Keith immediately pulls the candle back, righting it so it won’t spill any more. “Do I need to restrain you?”

“Fuck, yes, please,” Shiro moans, and Keith’s eyes are drawn to his straining cock. He wants to take it in his mouth, but not until he’s done. 

“Okay, baby,” Keith murmurs. “You’re being so good for me, just like you promised. I’ll take care of you.” He knows exactly where the restraints are in his bag, so he’s gone only moments before he’s back to the bed, grateful that Shiro has one of the few nice beds, the kind with actual posts on the corners as opposed to a thin, flat mattress on top of shitty box springs. It makes it easier to restrain Shiro; all he has to do is loop the black, satiny rope around Shiro’s wrists and ankles, and then the posts. He leaves a little give in the rope so Shiro can move his arms and legs, but not much.

He returns to his post and the dripping candle, holding it over Shiro’s thick cock and trailing more wax onto it. Shiro bites out broken pleas, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to arch, but he’s too restrained to get much leverage. “Fuck, Keith,  _ Sir _ , I’m… I’m  _ so _ close. Please, just a little more.”

Keith smiles, something sharp and wicked and entirely too pleased. “Did I forget to mention that you’re not allowed to come until I say so?” he purrs, and Shiro’s eyes snap open. “I know you can do it, baby. You can hold on until I give you permission, can’t you?”

Shiro’s face shows his strain, but he nods anyway. “Yes, Sir. I can be good.”

Pursing his lips, Keith blows the candle out, and Shiro whimpers. Keith tips the candle a little harder, letting the wax flow freely. Shiro lets out a choked, broken sob as he pushes his hips up, more precome dribbling from his cock into the wax and making a mess. “I want to swallow you,” Keith tells him, his breathing even despite the ragged thundering in his chest. “I want to feel you in my mouth, on my tongue, and I want to swallow you down until you’re desperate to come, until you’re begging, with tears in your voice and your eyes, and only then will I give you permission.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The eager acceptance in his voice makes Keith’s cock throb, and he finally takes the opportunity to shed his own clothing, freeing his erection from the tight confines of his pants. Shiro watches him greedily, a tiny puff of breath slipping between his barely-parted lips, and Keith can feel his own precome sliding down his shaft. 

The wax is cool now, hardened, and Keith takes his time peeling it off, feeling the pulse in his cock as each thin, angry red line is revealed. He laves each wound with his tongue, licking delicately over the tender, slightly raised welts, feeling Shiro tremble beneath his touch. “You like that, don’t you?” he breathes, and he doesn’t even wait for Shiro to answer before he closes his mouth over the head of his dick, tonguing around the rim of the foreskin before dropping quickly and taking the entire length into his throat.

Shiro yells, yanking at his restraints, trying to draw his arms down, and Keith smiles around him. He ignores Shiro struggling against the ropes and continues to lift his head and drop it, swallowing Shiro down as promised, creating pressure and a wet suction with his mouth, his tongue, his throat. 

“Sir, fuck, please, I need to come,” Shiro cries out, and Keith delicately shakes his head, making it clear that Shiro needs to hold on, just a little longer. 

He brings his hand up, pulling back far enough that there’s room for his fist to wrap around the base of Shiro’s cock, fingers squeezing roughly, and Shiro moans as Keith sucks hard and slides his foreskin down, then back up. The head bumps against the roof of his mouth and he presses his tongue against the bottom of it, licking, tracing the throbbing vein, and Shiro lets out a strangled whine. 

Pulling off completely, Keith gentles his stroking motion. “Tell me what you want, Shiro.”

“I want to come,” Shiro gasps. “Sir.”

“I love it when you call me that,” Keith murmurs, thumbing the tip of his cock and drawing off another bead of precome. He brings the thumb to his mouth, drawing it between his lips and sucking, and Shiro strains toward him again. “You’ve been so good for me, you’ve done everything that I’ve asked. Except begging. I haven’t heard you beg, Shiro.”

“Please, Sir, please, I need to come.” The sound washes over Keith, fingertips of pleasure stroking down his spine, and he spears his violet gaze into Shiro’s gray one, urging him on. “I want to come down your throat, want my come to coat your tongue. Please, Sir, please let me come in your mouth, let me, let me, Jesus, Sir,  _ please _ !”

There, finally, are the tears. Keith can hear them in the thick sound of his choked pleas, the watery tone, and he smiles, ducks his head, and sucks Shiro back in. He digs his fingers into Shiro’s hip, urging him on, and then he’s coming, a hot splash of it down Keith’s throat, just like  _ he’d _ promised. It’s thick and salty and bitter, and Keith chases the taste, pulling back to lap at the head as it gushes, until it gives one final, weak spurt. 

Shiro’s breathing is erratic and rattles in his throat, but Keith ignores it as he straddles Shiro’s stomach and jerks on his own cock rapidly. He’s so keyed up, so pleased to have pleasured Shiro in such an intensely intimate way, that it doesn’t take long. It’s barely half a dozen rough strokes before he’s coming too, the ropy strands splattering against Shiro’s chest, catching on the hardened bits of wax still clinging to his nipples and the hard planes of his chest. 

He continues to pull on his cock until he’s soft and his balls are empty, then flops down beside Shiro, feeling that muscular arm across his shoulders. “Do you want me to untie you?” he asks, and Shiro pauses before nodding. Keith waits a few moments, regaining his breath, before he pulls himself back up and reaches across Shiro’s body to loosen the ropes. 

Once he’s free, Keith continues to hold himself over Shiro, his eyes tracing posessively over the sleepy, sated expression on Shiro’s relaxed face. “Open your eyes,” he whispers, and when he does, Keith lowers his lips to Shiro’s, sinking his tongue into the warmth of his mouth. Their tongues slide together easily but eagerly, and Shiro reaches up to cradle Keith's face as he draws back to nip at his lips. 

It’s almost odd that this is the first time they’ve kissed, but for Keith, who does everything backward, it feels perfectly right.

\-----

The next month sees them settling more comfortably into their new relationship. Keith marvels sometimes at how easy it is; it’s like Shiro has always been part of him, of this life. He was a sub who didn’t know he was looking for a Dom, and now that they’ve come together, they’ve clicked into place like the final piece of the puzzle.

It doesn’t mean Shiro doesn’t struggle sometimes, but being used to obeying their superior officers has helped him become accustomed to behaving. Keith has never been the kind of Dom who demanded his sub do things like kneel at his feet or ask permission to speak, at least not outside of doing a scene, but he does expect respect and compliance with his commands. Shiro learns quickly, and Keith still can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner. 

It’s hard to do much at the Garrison, even with Shiro’s private room, because the utilitarian dorm rooms aren’t built to be spacious, or soundproof. Keith has learned that Shiro is noisy during sex, when he’s being flogged or whipped, even when he’s being restrained. Since he doesn’t like being gagged, Keith has had to get creative in finding ways to play without alerting the entire Garrison to their activities. Which means the one night a week they can escape the Garrison and run to Scarlet Ranch just so happens to be their favorite night of the week.

Then the night comes that they’re both ready to try a few things that they’ve wanted to try for a while. Keith is hesitant at first about combining too many ideas into one scene, but Shiro is the one who encourages him to go all out, to be adventurous. Keith teases him about wanting to switch, and Shiro smiles and tells him he’s game if Keith is. What surprises Keith is that he actually stops to consider it; normally he would outright reject the idea of being somebody’s sub again, even temporarily. He’s reminded of his thoughts all those months ago that he might be able to, for Shiro.

But not tonight. 

“Are you ready?” he asks Shiro as they’re dismounting from the bike, and Shiro nods, shifting from one foot to the other. It both pleases and electrifies Keith, knowing the reason for it. “Use your words, Shiro.”

“Yes, Sir,” he responds automatically, and Keith stretches up to give him a biting kiss. 

He heads for the front entrance and Shiro automatically falls into step behind him. Now that Shiro has a membership, check-in is quick and efficient; Kela gives them a smile and a hello and they’re cruising through the dungeon doors. Keith glances over his shoulder, satisfied to see how excited Shiro already is, but it’s nothing new since he looks that way every time they walk into the club.

“What do you want to do first?” Shiro asks, and Keith knows what he wants, but he also knows what Shiro wants. 

“Give me the key.” Shiro reaches up and unties the thin leather string from around his neck, depositing it into Keith’s outstretched hand, both of them watching as the ends slither from Shiro’s grip. 

Keith is wearing a deep vee-cut sleeveless black shirt, and when he ties the leather around his own neck, the key lies flat against his chest, fitting neatly into the vee. Shiro swallows and Keith feels himself hardening in anticipation. “Strip,” Keith tells him, and his voice is velvet-coated steel. He’s learned that it’s Shiro’s favorite for receiving commands, and while Keith doesn’t want to wear it out, tonight is special.

Shiro moves efficiently, stripping out of his shirt first. Keith openly admires his broad chest and shoulders, the hard planes of muscles and defined pecs. Even after months of sparring together and a month and a half of fucking Shiro every way they can imagine, Keith still hasn’t gotten used to how beautiful his body is. 

When the pants and boxer briefs come off, Keith allows his gaze to drift downward avariciously. Now that Shiro is fully naked, the golden cage enclosing his cock is starkly visible, and Keith feels a hot rush at knowing Shiro has been caged all day. “Did you enjoy walking around in that today, feeling it with every step?” Keith murmurs, sliding his hand down to cup the hard plastic, knowing that Shiro really can’t feel his grip through it but enjoying the sensation himself.

“I hardly even noticed it, after the first half hour or so,” Shiro admits, curling forward into Keith’s touch. “But every time I did, I could feel myself trying to get hard, thinking about tonight,” he continues, voice going reedy with desire. “I can’t wait until you fuck me while I’m wearing it.”

Keith can’t, either. “Eventually. For now, we’re going to make the rounds of the floor before we decide what to do next.” He already knows, has had it planned for the past week, but this part is for Shiro. He’d rated exhibitionism as one of his highest yeses, but Keith had put it off until he felt they were ready to take that step.

As they begin moving through the dungeon, Keith falls behind Shiro in order to watch the reactions of the other players as much as to watch the slight bounce of Shiro’s glorious ass. He’s been buried between those cheeks on multiple occasions and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of feeling the firm flesh under his fingertips, the way they give under his biting, clutching grip as he drives into Shiro. 

Imagining it makes him so hard he aches, and he shakes himself out of fantasy and back into reality, which is almost as appealing. He feels pride when he sees the way other people turn to look at them, casting admiring glances Shiro’s way and approving ones at Keith. This circuit of the play floor is nothing more than an excuse to parade his beautiful sub in front of everyone else, and while Keith had never had much interest in exhibitionism before now, knowing that Shiro is enjoying it makes it more appealing to him.

A quick skim of his gaze down Shiro’s backside reveals what he’d been waiting to see; a flash of black rubber, the base of the butt plug Shiro’s been wearing concurrently with the cock cage for the past several hours. He can imagine the war Shiro has been fighting all day, simultaneously being turned on by the constant dull pressure in his ass while having to suffer the cage stifling his erection. 

Keith feels incredibly fortunate that Shiro was so willing to agree to this form of erotic torture. Just thinking of it during the day had Keith ducking into his own bathroom to quickly stroke himself to orgasm. He’d limited it to just the once, though, because tonight he wants to fuck Shiro until he’s a sobbing, incoherent mess. 

He can’t resist reaching out to slap Shiro’s ass, watching as it jiggles a little and blooms with a faint pink handprint. Shiro moans quietly and slows; Keith spanks him again, and again, and just when Shiro starts arching backward into the contact, Keith leans over his shoulder and whispers, “Keep moving. I want to walk around the entire club before I blindfold you.”

Shiro moves.

It doesn’t take them long before they finish their circuit, and Keith’s pride in Shiro has grown to the point where it’s almost overwhelming. Shiro’s fit into his life so seamlessly and been the best sub Keith has ever had, and he still can’t believe his luck sometimes. When Shiro turns slightly to bestow a soft smile on him, Keith knows that he feels the same way.

“Are you ready for the blindfold?” he asks Shiro as they approach an empty area with a cushioned bench. 

Shiro nods. “Green,” he replies, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. Keith knows this is something that was all his idea, but Shiro’s embraced it similarly to the way Keith’s embraced fucking Shiro in public. 

Keith withdraws the simple black velvet eye mask he prefers to use for blindfolding. It’s not as sexy as some of the long satin ones, but it’s easier to use and stays firmly in place, so it’s more appealing in terms of functionality. “Sit down,” he commands, and Shiro complies immediately, straddling the bench easily. Keith’s mouth goes dry at the sight of those wide, powerful thighs spread and gripping the bench. His caged cock rests against the red cushioned top, and Keith is tempted to dispense with the foreplay and head straight for the main event.

Reining himself in, he settles the blindfold over Shiro’s face, tugging it so that it’s situated comfortably against his eyes. “Can you see?” he asks, and Shiro shakes his head. “Good. I’m going to choose a variety of things to touch you with and you won’t be able to see what I’m doing. I won’t use anything we haven’t already discussed. Color?”

“Green,” Shiro answers firmly, and Keith nods even though he can’t see him.

“Good boy. You’re always so well-behaved for me.” Shiro’s love for praise was something unexpected, though all of this has been, honestly. Keith loves to indulge him. He wants to praise Shiro every minute of every day, but he uses it sparingly.

He takes the first tool out of his bag, a triple pinwheel. They’ve used the five head pinwheel before, but he’s graduating to the triple, which he likes better. There are fewer spines, but it’s more concentrated in one spot as opposed to being spread out. Situating himself behind Shiro, he lightly touches the pinwheel between Shiro’s shoulder blades. He tenses at first, a brief flinch, then relaxes into it. Keith runs the pinwheel up his back and over his neck, gradually increasing the pressure, then rolls it back down, all the way to the cleft of his ass until it brushes against the base of the plug. Shiro arches, and Keith chases the line of his spine, pressing in until Shiro hisses. Keith knows from experience that it’s a hiss of pleasure, and he has to resist rocking his erection against the cushioned bench.

“How was that, baby?” he asks when he lifts the tool away from Shiro’s muscled back.

“It was perfect, Sir. May I please have some more?” Shiro rasps, and Keith strokes one gloved hand over his bare shoulder.

“Of course. Anything for my good boy.” Shiro whimpers under his breath and Keith knows he’s not going to last much longer before dragging Shiro upstairs to the semi-private rooms. Before he does, though, he withdraws his strap crop with the loop of black leather at the end. “Are you ready?” Shiro nods, biting his lip, and Keith snaps the crop at his left nipple, the blow landing with a sharp crack. Shiro cries out, lurching forward, and whip-quick, Keith strikes the right nipple with the same force. Shiro’s hips jerk as he attempts to rut against the bench.

Frowning, Keith pulls his crop back. “Did I say you could try to give yourself pleasure?”

“No, Sir,” comes the dutiful reply. 

“Don’t do it again, or I won’t let you come later. I’ll fuck you until I fill you with my come, and then we’ll leave with you still caged,” Keith warns. 

“Yes, Sir.”

To drive home the point, Keith snaps the crop at Shiro’s right thigh. Shiro gasps and then presses his lips tightly together, but he remains still. Keith whacks his left thigh and Shiro’s mouth falls open on a groan, but again, he doesn’t move.

“There we go. That’s my well-behaved boy.” Keith circles to Shiro’s back and lands another blow between his shoulder blades, leaving a bright red mark from the thick leather strap. Shiro jerks again but doesn’t move his hips, so Keith rewards him by sliding a finger into the top of his crack, slipping it inside his rim alongside the plug. Shiro bites off a cry and Keith can feel him quivering, fighting the instinct to rock his hips. “Do you want to go upstairs now?”

“God, yes, please. Sir,” Shiro tacks on breathlessly, desperation lacing his words.

They haven’t even done half of what Keith had planned, but he knows they’re both too keyed up from anticipation to let this night play out the way he’d imagined. They’ll take their time another night.

Keith makes sure to wipe down the bench as soon as Shiro stands, while Shiro puts the pinwheel and crop back into the bag. As soon as Keith has cleaned up the bench he stands and gestures for Shiro to follow him upstairs. He’s only taken Shiro up there once before, to show him what he was asking for and making sure it was something he really wanted.

The upstairs rooms are only semi-private, since nudity is allowed everywhere but actual sexual intercourse isn’t allowed on the main level. The only purpose of the upstairs rooms is to keep sexual acts separated from the play area, so anyone is allowed to wander in and watch if they want.

Keith hopes, for Shiro’s sake, that a lot of people want to watch tonight.

There are plenty of people upstairs when they get there, but very little activity. Keith recognizes Ellie and her girlfriend Gina in one corner. They look relatively tame, considering; Ellie is kissing down Gina’s neck while thrusting several fingers between her thighs. It still makes Keith slightly uncomfortable, since voyeurism has never been something he cared for, and he turns away. 

“Are you reconsidering? Sir?” Shiro asks, concern evident in his eyes and voice, and Keith smiles reassuringly at him.

“I don’t mind being watched. I’m just not interested in watching.”

He scouts the room for the best location, giving a short nod of satisfaction when he sees a leather couch opposite a bondage horse. They’ll be moving from one to the other, so the couch is as good a place as any. Shiro follows him and stands patiently beside him as Keith unselfconsciously strips out of his shirt and black jeans, cramming them into the bag along with his boxer-briefs. When he sinks to the couch, he looks up at Shiro and smiles lazily. “I want you to suck me,” he informs Shiro, spreading his legs to allow Shiro room to drop down between them.

He does, immediately. This isn’t even close to the first time Shiro has gone down on him, but like every time, he treats it like a prize, like a reward for good behavior. Keith drops his head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch, and his eyes drift close as Shiro’s lips engulf his cock. Shiro has a talented, eager mouth, and it never fails to bring Keith right to the edge. He usually stops Shiro before he goes over so he can fuck him, but when he feels like being spoiled, he allows Shiro to bring him to orgasm and he spills himself down Shiro’s throat. 

Even the thought of it now drives him ever closer, and he was close enough to begin with. “Shiro,” he grits out, pushing at Shiro’s shoulder. “Stop, baby, I’m going to come.”

“So?” he pouts, and Keith schools his face into a disapproving frown.

“Are you going to be bad for me when you’ve been so good all night?”

“No, Sir.” He shakes his head with apologetic eyes, and Keith forgives him, of course. 

He gestures for Shiro to stand up, and he does. “Turn around and widen your stance.” When Shiro complies, Keith leans forward and grips the base of the plug, tugging on it, pulling it out an inch or so before letting Shiro’s impressive ass muscles suck it back into place. Shiro huffs out a soft, pained breath. “Tell me how that feels.”

“It feels good, Sir. Really good. How much longer do I have to be in this cage?”

Keith pulls at the plug again, pulling it out and lazily pushing it back in several times in a row. “I’ll unlock it once I’ve come in you the first time.” That said, he pulls the plug out completely, utterly fascinated by the way Shiro’s rim flutters and grasps at empty air. He’s spread wide open, which pleases Keith. Beyond the torture of being continuously stimulated while unable to get hard, the plug served the purpose of stretching and prepping Shiro so that Keith could fuck right into him.

Wordlessly, Keith points at their bag and Shiro reaches in to grab the small travel bottle of lube. Shiro is already lubed from when he put the plug in, but it’s been hours and it needs to be reapplied. Keith spreads it liberally across his fingers before sliding them into Shiro’s ass, fitting three easily. Shiro keens and shifts backward, trying to get closer to Keith’s fingers, but Keith pulls them free and wipes them against his thigh.

“Do you want to watch yourself?” Keith asks, nodding at the mirror on the other side of them. The horse is between them and the mirror, but Shiro would still have a good view of himself riding Keith. 

“Yes, please, Sir.” 

As soon as Shiro consents, Keith grips his hips and guides him backward and down onto Keith’s lap. Since he’s already so loose and open, he sinks down easily onto Keith’s cock. Keith thrusts up, burying himself firmly in one smooth stroke, and Shiro cries out at the abrupt intrusion. 

Since this part of their evening is entirely for Keith’s pleasure, and since the whole goal is to selfishly use Shiro’s body for that pleasure, Keith doesn’t hesitate to thrust up again, holding Shiro’s hips firmly as he drives up repeatedly. “Color,” he demands, voice breaking on the single word.

“Green, God, Keith, so fucking green,” Shiro moans, arching backward against Keith’s chest as he watches himself in the mirror, eyes half-lidded. Keith can’t even find his voice to reprimand Shiro for forgetting to call him Sir. “I need to come, Keith, please, please uncage me?”

“Not until I’ve emptied myself in you,” Keith reminds him breathlessly, twining one arm around Shiro’s waist and pulling him backward, situating him so Keith can angle his hips up just that little bit better. Shiro’s chest is splotchy pink in the mirror and Keith thumbs at his nipple with the hand that isn’t wrapped around him. Keith can feel Shiro bearing down around him, can see him gritting his teeth, and a groan involuntarily escapes him. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to come. I’m so fucking close.”

Shiro twists his head to kiss Keith, and it’s inelegant and messy because the angle is wrong and Shiro’s body is bouncing against Keith’s lap and it’s mostly teeth, but Shiro gasps into his mouth, “Fuck, Sir, come in me, please come in me. I want your come in my ass, want to feel it dripping out of me.”

Keith had never pegged Shiro as the type to be into raunchy dirty talk, but that’s just one more pleasant surprise Shiro had in him. The words are effective enough that Keith can’t help but obey, and he throws his head back as his body stiffens and he comes, spurting hot and messy in Shiro’s ass. He can feel pulsing wave after wave of come emptying into Shiro until he’s drained, and he flops backward into the couch.

“May I plug myself back up, Sir?” Shiro asks softly after a moment, and Keith grabs the plug from where he dropped it on the couch. 

“Lift up, carefully,” Keith tells him, and Shiro does. Keith can see that he tries to clench his ass shut, but he’s been fucked open so wide that he can’t hold the come in. It dribbles out but Keith is quick to push the plug in, stopping his come up and holding it inside Shiro. “You did so well for me, baby. That was exactly what I wanted.”

“We’re not done though, right?” Gingerly, he lowers himself to the couch beside Keith, and Keith notes that he’s very careful in the way he sits. 

He shakes his head. “Give me some time to get ready to go again. I’ll uncage you and handcuff you to the bondage horse.”

Shiro’s eyes gleam. “Yes, Sir.”

A movement at Keith’s peripheral vision has him twisting, only to find that they are indeed being watched. Avidly. “That was extraordinary,” one man says, and Keith recognizes him from around the club, so he finds it less creepy than a stranger. “You have a beautiful sub, so expressive and well-behaved.”

He’d honestly forgotten that the goal was for others to watch them, so he stares at the man for a moment while he searches for something to say. “I do,” he agrees finally, trying not to brush the guy off like a giant dick, and also trying not to invite any more commentary.

It doesn’t work.

“I almost came watching you,” a blonde woman, this time someone he doesn’t recognize, tells them, her expression rapt, her voice breathy. Keith isn’t interested in listening to any more praise, but one glance at Shiro’s proud, blushing face stills the rejection on his tongue.

He looks around and to his surprise, they have a genuine audience. Several of them are involved in pleasuring each other, but it’s casual, like it’s something to do while they’re watching the show Keith and Shiro put on, but they’re definitely watching.

Keith’s still not entirely sure he’s on board with this, but he doesn’t hate it, and Shiro obviously loves it. “Is this your Garrison Golden Boy persona needing all the attention and approval?” he murmurs under his breath to Shiro, who snorts out a half-laugh.

“It’s me wanting to show everyone how much my Dom pleases me,” Shiro murmurs back, and  _ oh _ . That makes Keith’s blood run a little hotter than usual. 

His cock jumps, a half-hearted movement because it’s too soon for him to get hard again, but enough to let him know there’s still a lot of interest in proceeding. “I like showing how much I like pleasing you, and I like showing off how good you are for me,” he says softly, leaning over so Shiro can hear him but no one else can.

Shiro shifts, thigh brushing against Keith’s hip, and he’s tempted to uncage him now instead of waiting, just so he can play with Shiro’s thick cock. The only thing keeping him from reaching for the key around his neck is the knowledge that Shiro will come too quickly if he’s uncaged.

Since he’s not sensitive anymore, he settles back into the couch and nods at his own soft dick. “Get me hard again, baby. I want to bend you over the horse and fuck you until you can’t walk.” Normally he wouldn’t attempt to get an erection this quickly, but he’s concerned they’ll lose their audience if they don’t do something worth watching.

Before he can blink, Shiro is back on his knees between Keith’s spread thighs. His ass is sticking up and out, presenting to the crowd, and Keith is slightly jealous of the view they all have--Shiro’s gorgeous ass, the cheeks split by a large black rubber plug, the muscles flexing and tightening greedily.

He moans quietly when Shiro’s large fist wraps around him, stroking leisurely, nearly covering his entire length. He doesn’t have a big dick, but it’s not small either, and he trembles a little at the vision of Shiro’s fingers closing around everything but the head of his cock. Shiro drops his head and licks at it, swirling his tongue around the fat head and dragging the tip of it through Keith’s slit, collecting the drop of precome that’s beaded up. “You taste so good, Sir. Love having you in my mouth.”

“You like having me in your ass more,” Keith scoffs, sliding his fingers through the top of Shiro’s hair, twisting them in the only strands long enough to grip. 

Shiro’s mouth is too full of Keith’s cock to respond, but he hums against the shaft and it’s answer enough. It also sends a frisson of arousal skittering up his spine, and within moments he’s fully hard again, arching into Shiro’s mouth. From under his bangs he sees that more people have gathered around them, so he decides to make the show more interesting.

His other hand finds Shiro’s hair and he tugs sharply. “Open your throat, baby.” It’s all the warning Shiro gets; a beat later Keith thrusts up, pushing himself roughly into Shiro’s mouth. They’ve done this before and Shiro loves it, so Keith doesn’t restrain himself much. He fucks into Shiro’s face with abandon, tipping his head back and letting the moans roll out of his chest like a ripple of rumbling thunder, and Shiro chokes on his own whimpers and cries as he takes every thrust down his throat.

“Fuck, Shiro, your goddamn  _ mouth _ ,” Keith grits out, slowing his hips until he comes to a complete stop. Shiro whines in protest. “Don’t be greedy. Or don’t you want me to strap you down to the horse?”

He pulls free from Shiro’s mouth and when he can speak again, Shiro hoarsely says, “I do, Sir. I want you to bend me over and tie me down.”

“That’s what I thought.” He pushes at Shiro’s shoulder and lifts himself onto slightly unsteady legs. It takes a moment to regain his balance, but Keith plays it off by watching Shiro rise to his full height. Keith slips his fingers under the leather cord around his neck, lifting the key over his head. He’s quiet as he crouches and deftly unlocks the cock cage, taking care as he removes it. He tosses it in their gear bag before standing again, shifting toward the horse as he does. 

They’re only a few feet from the horse, a cherry wood A-frame bench with two burgundy pads mounted on each side, and one long one across the top. Leather cuffs with brushed gold buckles are attached to each of the four pads, with two extra on the wood itself.

“Kneel on the lower pads,” Keith instructs, “and lay on your stomach and chest on the long one. Brace your arms on the higher pads.” 

Shiro does, but the pads aren’t at the right height and Keith has to spend a few moments adjusting them. When he gestures for Shiro to get back into place, he’s satisfied that everything is properly adjusted. It only takes a minute to wrap the leather straps around Shiro’s ankles, buckling them tightly into place, and then doing the same with the straps around his wrists. 

“Are you okay?” he asks lowly, and Shiro nods.

“Green,” he clarifies.

Keith circles back behind Shiro and finally gets to see what the others gathered around them got to see a few moments earlier. Shiro’s round, full ass is presented high, the plug on prominent display, and only Shiro’s clenching muscles keep it in place. He’s spread wide enough that Keith’s come is leaking out around the edges, and Keith’s cock pulses at the sight. 

“I want to whip you,” he declares. Shiro moans in response. 

His cat-o-nine-tails is tucked into the inner edge of his bag and he retrieves it in moments, unwinding the tails from the short handle. “Ten lashes, each side,” he tells Shiro, and then he’s bringing his arm down hard, the thin twists of braided leather cracking against Shiro’s skin and immediately reddening it. He brings his arm up and crosses it back as he strikes again, and again, and again. The tiny leather knots on the ends of the tails leave bright red welts wherever they land, and Shiro ruts backward to get closer to every blow. 

“Sir, could you hit me harder, please?” he begs, and Keith’s arm protests, but he does. The noises coming from Shiro at this point are incoherent. As soon as Keith finishes with the twenty lashes he drops the cat and grabs for the plug, sliding it out with one smooth motion. His plugged-up come spills out, running down the backs of Shiro’s thighs, and Keith waits until he’s empty, his hole grasping at air, before crouching down and burying his tongue in it. 

Shiro’s been denied for so long that it takes almost nothing for him to get hard, and he cries out sharply when Keith fucks his tongue inside his rim, licking and stretching him open just that much more. “Oh God, Keith, Sir, more, please, more!”

Sliding a finger in beside his tongue, Keith continues to feast on him. Opening Shiro up on his tongue, turning him into a writhing, sobbing mess, is one of Keith’s favorite things. Of course, considering it’s Shiro, nearly everything is his favorite thing.

When his tongue gets tired he shifts back into a standing position between Shiro’s thighs, taking just enough time to re-apply lube to Shiro’s well-used hole. He lines himself up and pushes in until his hips rock up flush against Shiro’s ass. They don’t talk much during sex, but Shiro’s litany of whimpers and groans and cries spur Keith on and he fucks into Shiro roughly. His back muscles flex as he tries to grind his hips against the horse. “I need more, Sir,” he pants out, and it’s clear by the frustration in his voice that he’s not getting the friction he needs.

“I want you to come untouched,” Keith groans. “You can come whenever you want, but you have to get there without my help.”

“What you’re doing right now is help enough,” Shiro shoots back, and it would be cheeky if his voice wasn’t so strained. His drops his head, panting through it, and Keith smooths his hands over the play of muscles in his back before digging his nails sharply into Shiro's upper back. “Fuck, Sir, I’m going to--fuck, I can’t--oh,  _ God _ !”

He comes with a jerk, splashing white all across the horse, but Keith doesn’t relent in his punishing strokes forward. This was the other thing Shiro had readily agreed to, and Keith thrills at the sounds of Shiro’s reedy whimpers as he fucks him through the sensitivity accompanying the comedown from his orgasm. Shiro flinches only slightly and Keith slows, but Shiro whines out a choked, “Green, so fucking green,” and Keith resumes his brutal pace.

It’s only maybe five minutes before he feels like he could come again, but he’s had his moments of selfishness tonight and he decides to hold off until Shiro can get hard again. Gritting his teeth, he wills back the need to come that’s building up in his balls and leans forward, changing the angle of his thrusts until he’s grinding deep into Shiro’s ass. By this time Shiro is practically sobbing, fingers wrapped around the ends of the pads and clutching desperately, the limited range of motion frustrating him, as evidenced by the tension in his shoulders.

“Are you going to come for me again, baby?” he rasps against Shiro’s back, and Shiro keens, beyond words. “Are you getting hard again?” Keith can’t even say it’s too soon; he has firsthand experience with Shiro’s impressive refractory period. 

“Yes, Sir,” Shiro babbles, pushing his ass backward, taking Keith’s dick deeper. “Fuck, so hard. Make me come again, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Keith says, and it’s flippant despite the burning in his lungs and the sweat running down his back, the ache in his chest. He can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face even as he reaches up to shove back his sweaty bangs. “What do you need from me, Shiro?”

He cries out, voice thin and shaky. “Your hands. I need your hands.”

Keith reaches below them, closing his fingers around Shiro’s cock, which feels like a steel bar in his punishing grip. He jerks Shiro, his finger sliding easily from the leftover lube on them, and grinds his hips in a circle.

“Oh God, Keith, Sir, fuck me, please fuck me,” he begs, dropping his head forward again, and Keith lets go of his cock to grab his hips. His legs are beginning to tremble from muscle fatigue, but he’s determined to give it to Shiro as hard as he wants it, so he pounds deep, angling for his prostate with every thrust. 

“Shiro, baby, I’m close,” he warns, and that’s apparently all Shiro needed, because his hips give one last heave and he’s coming again, sobbing through it until he’s a shuddering mess. 

Knowing he’s brought Shiro to this state brings Keith over, and his shoulders hunch forward as he lets go, coming hard and filling Shiro. He drops his forehead to Shiro’s back, holding himself otherwise still as his hips continue to jerk involuntarily through the last fading tremors. 

Applause startles him, and he comes out of his post-orgasm haze back to reality. The crowd around them has grown significantly, much more than Keith ever expected, and he’s so drained and shaky that he doesn’t have the patience for this anymore. “He’s mine.” The words are iron under a veneer of velvet, and their fans seem to understand the subtle threat and begin to slowly drift away, whispering to themselves about the intensity of what they’d just seen.

Keith crouches down by Shiro’s head, running his fingers through his hair and cupping his lax, fucked-out face in gentle hands. “You okay, baby?”

“I’ve never been better,” Shiro breathes back at him, and Keith drops a chaste, lingering kiss on his upturned lips. “I’m not going to be able to walk right for a few days, though.”

“I never break my promises,” Keith teases him lightly, setting about unbuckling Shiro’s wrists and ankles, then helping him down from the horse. He’s unsteady, legs too weak to hold him easily, and Keith slips an arm around his waist to support him until he’s able to walk. 

They’re quiet as they clean up, moving slowly in deference to the muscle tremors and general achiness and stiffness that’s already setting in from such strenuous activity. “Is that what you wanted?” Keith asks as they finally pull on their clothes, and he grabs the bag, hefting it over his shoulder with his last bit of energy and strength.

“It was everything I could have asked for,” Shiro answers, and he starts to fall in behind Keith until Keith grabs his wrist and tugs, pulling Shiro into step with him. He curls himself into Shiro’s side and Shiro drops an arm around his shoulders, squeezing tightly. “My only concern is, how do we ever top that?”

Keith laughs, a light, airy sound borne from having almost zero energy. “Maybe next time I’ll let  _ you _ top  _ me _ .” The offer is out before he’s even though about it, but right now, he doesn’t mind the idea at all.

He’s known for awhile that Shiro is special, after all. With Shiro, for the first time, he can imagine breaking his own boundaries and doing anything. With Shiro, the future is wide open to a wealth of possibilities.

Keith can’t wait to share it with him.

**Author's Note:**

> There is honestly a lot more that I wanted to be able to fit into this fic, but writer's block and muse abandonment is an utter bitch and I just wanted to be able to get it posted instead of it being late another damn month. I ended this in such a way that it feels like a complete, finished fic, but I have every intention of writing a second chapter or a sequel in order to be able to fit in the things I wanted in this fic. If there are a couple things that feel like I dropped the thread without addressing, trust me, they'll be in the next part. 
> 
> If you liked this and want to come say hi and flail with me about these two beautiful space babies, [here's my Tumblr](http://cobrilee.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Here are some of the toys used in this fic: [cock cage](https://lockthecock.com/collections/silicone-male-chastity-devices/products/transparent-plastic), [flogger](https://www.amazon.com/Quality-Leather-Suede-Black-Flogger/dp/B00BF0YFGY), [bondage horse](https://www.etsy.com/listing/519911230/bdsm-spanking-strap-crop-slapper-bondage>strap%20crop</a>,%20<a%20href=), and [cat-o-nine-tails](https://www.medievalcollectibles.com/p-21772-cat-o-nine-tails-whip.aspx).


End file.
